Fool. The voice rasped. Foolish, foolish, foolish human.
He shook his head, fingers pressed to his temples. But Quinn was always so fucking sharp with her words, taking them further into the future, taking them towards darkness they hadn't even thought to seriously consider. The blasphemy, the idea of it. Children were used and females were bred to be eaten. What did she think they were? What kind of monster did she see them as? Gods, Helios would never do that, they'd stop after taking what they needed.
Will you? The voice snarled. You'd do what it takes to protect our pack.
Something in him throbbed, a softness he'd buried, a gentleness that was gone. He would do anything to save his mates. They were the priority, and if he had to burn. He'd burn for them all.
So why not protect our mate? The voice demanded, grunting deeper into something that resembled an animal. A wolf. It was a wolf that spoke, hissing from deep within the cavern of his soul. Our mate who suffers, our mate who broke through time and space to be here, the veils of death. It spat those words in a rush, the syllables melting together. The Goddess brought her back to us and had her suffer at the hands of the devils that crept from hell. Our mate walks the lines of death every day. She is not connected by the soul, not connected to this world. And yet, you wish to hurt her, you wish to let her tears fall tonight, alone. Our mate will always be alone, has always been alone, so alone, so alone, so alone—
It howled, something within him seemed to shatter. The pain blossomed from within.
"Shut up," Helios cursed, fists to his head. "Shut up. Shut up. Shut up."
His eyes were wide, skin stinging, conscience fermenting within the primordial darkness. The symptoms were back, creeping into his throat, dryness, a parched longing, a tug at his navel. The voice. His insanity had returned, fey magic spilling into his brain, splitting his head apart. The fear struck him then and thundered in his mind. The Lonely's affliction had returned. He should have known that it would creep into his mind like a curse.
It had been weeks since he'd last feasted on Quinn, garnering strength to withstand its pull. He flushed at the thought, heat rushing to his throat. But the red on his cheeks was all shame. He'd forgotten that preventing the disease was paramount, that it was beyond his guilt for Quinn. And now it was back like an awful pulse in his throat, dragging his feet forward to an unseen place.
Not insanity, it told him. Not a disease.
Helios hissed. The devil. You want her. You make me want her. You made me like this. It's your fault. Your fault. Get out of me. He thrashed. Let me live.
You, it reminded him. You are the one who wants her dead, who's reasoned that consuming her heart will solve our problems. You are the one that's making all the mistakes. I am you at your most basic of instincts. I am your Omega, and you've poisoned me, you're poisoning us, splitting us apart, breaking us. Soon we will be rotting flesh and blood.
Omega?
What fuckery was this? Had the disease broken his mind? Helios snorted, a laugh erupting from his throat, he pulled at his bonds, the strands of rose that clung to his heart. Fuck his head, fuck the Lonely. His fingers tingled, magic twisted in the air, laced in his locks, clinging to his shoulders. But he ignored it all, ignored the pounding at his temples.
The voice grew silent, a long angry pause. You know exactly what we want, deep inside. But when you make the same mistake again, there will be no second chances.
What mistake?
But the voice turned quiet, snuffled out once again. Helios's nails were digging bloody moons into his palm. He left then, shaking for his mates, for the embrace of his lovers, for Solar's reassurance as a fellow fey. He needed his advice, needed to tell him of the voice.
Their nest was awfully quiet, thunder crashing, rain pelting upon the snow outside. The air was stickier than usual, and his lovers were silent in their household. He could sense them all in different parts of their home incapable of speech, buried with their demons.
And then there was the quiet sobbing, echoing through his bond, twisting sluggish into his chest. Elysian was buried in their pillows, Solar's hand on his back. He could taste his sadness, like a sinking, bitter flavour, like dread. There was a quiet conversation between the two, and Helios stayed in the shadows watching and listening. His eyes zeroed in on Elysian.
"How can she say that?" the vampire cried into the sheets, curled tight. They'd been distracted by their emotions and had not sensed the turmoil that ravaged Helios's head. The madness that had begun. But tonight, Helios was glad that they had not approached him with questions. That Elysian's emotions were all that they could feel. "How can she look at me like that and say that after everything?"
Fool, the voice sang abruptly. He has everything now, the first to claim our mate, the first to mark her as ours, the first to connect with her soul. And yet, he does not listen to his Omega. He could have had everything, he could have been free. The jealousy roared within him like a wildfire, spreading through him an envious green and red.
Shut up, Helios snarled in his mind, fingers clenching his throat.
She doesn't trust him now, the voice murmured. It has his Omega in turmoil, and the darkness returns. It floods the bonds. It boils the soul. Her eyes. Helios knew what it spoke of the utter look of disappointment that had danced across her face. Her gaze that plagued his dreams, eyes that peered at him as if she couldn't recognise him. The regret. And we will only worsen as the pack weakens together.
Be quiet, Helios begged. I cannot afford to lose it now. Not now, not when everyone is hurting when she is hurting. I cannot afford to ask her for help. The voice drowned out into a whisper, snuffed as if his concern for Quinn was enough to calm the disease. His attention returned back to the nest.
"She knows how I feel about her, she should know," Elysian whimpered into the sheets. "How I protect her, how much I've given up for her. We're not Gods, we're Kings, Kings with an impossible task—"
"Hush," Solar whispered back, the fey's wings shimmered softly in the darkness. But the silky gossamer seemed dull. "You know how Betas are. They do not feel as much as we do. They are not capable of the emotions you feel."
Lies. Helios tasted her emotions, so raw, so fresh, so full. She was always vibrant, always like the zest of life. Elysian's answering wail was heartbreaking, and he knew why for even he could feel her rushing through their bonds. The strength of her emotions when she'd snarled those words. She spoke only of the truth. But he closed his eyes, guilt on his tongue, flavoured hot, eyes wet. He raised the fabric he'd hidden in his pocket to his nose—her scent stained on clothes that he had lent to her. It smelt like her, stale, cold but peach. It calmed him, snuffed the kindled flames that burnt within him.
Helios needed to be stronger.